“Where are you going?!”
I smiled.
“To a meeting,” I replied.
I paused just long enough.
“The important kind… you know.”
And I left.
But that wasn’t the end.
Two hours later, I came home—laughing, smelling like beer and freedom.
He was sitting on the couch.
Pale. Drained. Defeated.
Phone in his hand.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked flatly.
“Very much,” I said, setting my bag down.
He looked at the phone.
“Carolina texted me.”
I stayed silent.
“I canceled.”
That surprised me.
“Oh really?”
He ran a hand over his face.
“Because I realized something today.”
I waited.
